


A Midnight Ride

by FancyTyper



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Belonging, Clary Fray-centric, Freedom, Happy, Home, Inspired by Music, Late at Night, New York City, POV Clary Fray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11705415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyTyper/pseuds/FancyTyper
Summary: Clary takes a late night bike ride through New York City, making some stops along the way.





	A Midnight Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to: The Gold by Manchester Orchestra

 

_"Can't open your eyes for a while  
You just breathe that moment down."_

_\-- The Gold by Manchester Orchestra_

 

 

 

It was late. Around 12 A.M. The Institute was silent with sleeping Shadowhunters and the corridors were dimly lit with witchlight.

            Clary crept out of her room and walked down the hallway—no Silent Rune needed—and came into the empty lobby. The computers were turned off, the screens that were pinned to the wall glowed with the Angelic Rune. No one was there.

            Walking toward the elevator, Clary rode it down to the first floor where the Institute kept its church interior. She walked out and looked at the vast array of candles that sat in small, red glasses. The flames danced lightly to their own beat and the glow illuminated the stained glass window above them.

            Clary walked over to them and picked up the lighter, she lit an unlit candle and closed her eyes.

            _I miss you. . . ._

Opening her eyes she set the lighter down and walked toward the doors that would lead her to the front grounds.

            Once outside Clary took a deep breath and tilted her head up toward the inky black sky; the moon was a slim crescent and it shinned like a diamond among the darkness that surrounded it.

            There were no stars, or clouds, just the moon and the sky.

            Closing her eyes, Clary breathes deeply, letting the stress of the day—the last few months—evaporate from her mind. Breathing in the clean, early summer air, Clary let her shoulders slump and her arms dangle loosely at her sides.

            _In . . . out._

_In . . . out._

_In . . . out._

Opening her eyes, she tilted her head down and walked out of the gates and onto the sidewalk outside of the Institute.

            No Stele. No Seraph blade. No weapon of any kind. She didn’t want one. Didn’t need one.

            All she had was a key. A key that would give her what she needed.

         

  **[ . . . ]**

 

 

Finding the storage room was easy—her mother had rented it to store art supplies and old furniture.

            Unlocking the door, Clary opened it and flipped on the light—an ordinary, white bulb—and stepped into the room.

            It was a clutter of old, unsold art pieces; ratty furniture that looked like it was from the 80s, and boxes of clothes and trinkets.

            She made a mental note to come here again and go through everything.

            When she spotted the bike, in the way back of the room, half covered by a sheet, she went over and pulled the sheet all the way off.

            The bike had been her mother’s but she had stopped using it when Clary was about 15.

            So it had gone to storage. Unused for years.

Until now that is.

            It was a simple looking bike; wide handlebars; blue paint; thick, white trimmed wheels; a flat, cushy seat.

            But it was plain too. No stickers in the spokes, no decorations on the handlebars, no basket or bell.

            This bike could’ve been anyone’s, Jocelyn hadn’t made her mark on it.

            But Clary would.

            After bringing the bike out of the storage room, Clary locked the place up, and rode away.

            She started slow, gently pedaling and finding her balance once again. She hadn’t ridden a bicycle since she was 13, but the motions came back easily.

            Guess the saying was true.

            She passed by boarded up houses and rundown buildings that used to make things that are now made by computers. Empty alleyways and graffiti-marked walls.

            The sound of the tires running over the rubble played in her ears and the wind coursed through her hair, making it look like a red cape behind her.

            Making a few left turns, Clary found herself in a small neighborhood of apartment buildings and complex houses. The streetlights made pools of gold on the ground and cars rested on the curb, asleep.

            It was quiet, the only sound coming from crickets and the faint, far off sounds of the city.

            She saw houses with gardens in the front, flowers of every kind and color sprouted from the ground. They looked like lollipops, Clary thought as she went by them.

            She rode through the neighborhood for a few more moments before making a right turn and going straight.

            Toward the city once more.

     

 

**[ . . . ]**

           

Clary stopped at the top of a hill that would take her down into the city.

            She saw the twinkling lights of the buildings and stores; heard the muffled voices of the people still awake; the sounds of cars and motorcycles riding through the streets.

            It was like music to her. A song that she’d remember forever.

            Taking a deep breath, Clary looked down at the ground that stooped down the hill, the smooth cement rolled out before her like the tongue of a giant.

            She kicked her break up, rolled her shoulders, and . . . .

            _Flew._

The air hit her face and tangled through her hair like invisible fingers; her heart pounded in her ears, adrenaline sang in her veins. Everything was a blur, a big, beautiful, wild blur of color.

            She lifted her feet off the pedals, tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

            _I’m flying. Thank God, I’m flying!_

A small, excited giggle fell from her lips and she opened her eyes, focusing on the speeding ground ahead of her.

            The hill soon flattened and Clary lightly braked, the tires gently skidding the road.

            She stopped at the bottom of the hill, catching her breath and letting her heart slow.

            Glancing at her back, she expected to see wings.

 

 **[. . .]**  

 

_**To Be Continued** _

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment/ kudos, I love hearing from you guys! xx


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